


Direst Dearest Disaster

by hygogg



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cyberverse
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Cunnilingus, G1 if you want, M/M, Office Sex, Shameless Smut, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Thirsty Bots, Valve Oral (Transformers), ended up fluffier than planned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 07:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17361578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hygogg/pseuds/hygogg
Summary: Some distractions are easy to ignore (Starscream is not one of them).





	Direst Dearest Disaster

Megatron kept typing away, trying to keep his focus on the monitor in an attempt to ignore the Seeker that kept catching the corner of his optics, dimmed lights and purple monitors making the red of his frame stand out like a beacon, the mocking Autobot nickname ‘attention Seeker’ ringing true. 

Megatron didn’t trust anyone but himself with the paperwork, if only to make sure he had control over what went where, the only thing getting in his way being a _very distracting Second in Command_. Who had, rather shamelessly, seated himself on top one of the empty desks in the command office, his long shapely legs on display. He was not within physical reach of Megatron, but strategically within the corner of his field of sight. The little demon knew exactly what he was doing, Megatron thought as the jet crossed his legs, sending a small jolt through him, suddenly unable not to imagine spreading them apart, burying his face between those thighs, tasting him —

When he had pasted the same number sequence into the same wrong margin for the third time, Megatron finally spoke.

“Why are you still here?”

Starscream didn’t answer. 

“I told you. You’re dismissed, Starscream.”

Starscream just made a dismissive huff, “why are _you_ staying late?”

“Return to your quarters,” Megatron deadpanned.

“Staying late hours, for _Shockwave_ ’s sake, are you?”

“What of it?” Megatron snapped back, restraining to keep his optics at the screen.

He was, in fact, staying late answering an inquiry from Shockwave, who had requested a hefty amount of resources to be allotted for a prototype of a new large-scale mounted laser weapon, that would, if tests were satisfactory, give their ship a tactical advantage. Shockwave had given him good reasons to trust him with even esoteric experimental technologies lately, the only problem being his reports were thorough, requiring increasingly more obscure allowances of resources Megatron had to check one-by-one with their numerous databases if they actually possessed, lest he had to arrange for gathering missions. 

“ _Shockwave_ doesn’t care that you’re overworking yourself.”

Megatron didn’t rise to it. Not for one second would he entertain the thought of Starscream genuinely fussing about his well-being. 

“I am your Second, you know,” Starscream continued after no response. “Who else is going to make sure you don’t pass out from exhaustion and wake up here in the morning with a stiff back?”

“Shocwave has proven himself worthy of my time, Starscream,” Megatron said, tabbing over to one of the screens displaying available materials. Numbers. _So many numbers_. It was very tempting to let his little distraction become less a distraction and more of a bad decision.

_Bad_ being relative, of course. He was a Decepticon after all.

“Get me an energon cube.”

“Wh—!?” 

Megatron tilted his head to look at him and couldn’t help but smirk at the disgusted expression on the Seeker’s face, his wings flaring out in sudden emotional outburst. 

“If you’re going to stay here, the least you can do is make yourself useful.”

“No. You don’t need to refuel,” Starscream huffed and crossed his arms. 

“Insolence, Starscream?”

Megatron didn’t know why had had been so insistent on finishing the report to Shockwave. No matter, he already acknowledged to himself he wasn’t going to finish it today – but he also wasn’t going to let the little glitch think he had _won_ , not so easily.

Megatron spun his chair to face the seeker, who recoiled a little before stiffening his wings, trying to fake a composed look. Megatron took the opportunity to finally let his optics take in the pretty sight of his Second, slowly trailing his gaze over the shape of his wings, the curves of his frame, his long legs… 

Noticing his leader’s optics having settled themselves on him, Starscream averted his gaze but bore sly smirk.

“Well, what are you going to do? _Punish_ me?”

“What if I am?”

Megatron rose, Starscream not flinching this time at the imposing larger frame closing in on him, but instead uncrossing his legs as if in invitation, tilting his frame slightly backwards on the otherwise empty desktop. 

Before the seeker could come up with anything to say in response, Megatron’s lips were on his, large servos sparing no time to reach for both of his wings, giving each of them a hard pinch. Megatron let their lips part to let the seeker let out a whimper before stealing them again, Starscream eagerly kissing him back, letting Megatron’s glossa slip between his lips.

“Finally you stopped pretending you don’t want me and cut to the chase, hm?” Starscream said the next time their kiss broke. “Didn’t take long…”

Megatron felt his processor leaping at how Starscream’s intake had hitched, the temperature between their frames rising. Megatron answered by biting his lip, drawing out a high pitched whimper from the jet.

Starscream pushed into Megatron’s large servos that were making their way down his frame, demanding rougher treatment. He craned his neck, begging to deepen their kiss, which Megatron was generous to answer.

“More,” Starscream demanded, and Megatron bared his fangs, not as in a grin or grit but as a display of what they did best, as a weapon to be dug into metal, bending and tearing it, leaving possessive marks of conquest. Sensing the jet’s unspoken desire, he leant over to push him down onto his back and cover his frame. Long white legs parted to allow the large frame between them, thighs holding him fast and heels digging into his hips. 

“Your frame is beautiful,” Megatron observed, for once no backhand to come with an honest compliment.

“ _I know_. Makes you just want leave your mark on it, doesn’t it?”

Starscream leant back giving Megatron access, a submissive gesture as much as a challenge. Megatron dug in his sharp teeth into a shoulder vent, leaving his mark. Starscream squirmed, pain and pleasure causing his intake to hitch even further as Megatron’s biting grip held him pinned with only his teeth. The taste of metal lingered after he let go.

It wasn’t the taste he was craving now, though.

Megatron’s large servos moved from his wings to the seeker’s chest, fingers dipping in to finger at his sensitive chest turbines. Starscream moved his hand to the back of Megatron’s helm, as the warlord’s focus was wandering further down the Seeker’s body. He knew what he wanted, and Starscream, allowing him to place his attentions wherever he wanted, pushed his body up as if on display.

Megatron went on to kiss the smooth surface of Starscream’s cockpit, a gentle stroking up and down with his lips, before sliding a servo under the curvature of his backstrut under the base of his wings. Starscream arched under his touch, and Megatron pulled him into a sitting position again, pulling him closer and placing his own helm between his thighs. 

He nuzzled against his pelvic armour, his hot breath against a heated covered array, both servos shamelessly stroking up and down the jet’s legs. He left small kisses against his inner thighs and over his array. Starscream hummed in appreciation of Megatron’s wordless praise.

“Open,” he looked up and said it as if a command; he knew the authoritative tone turned the jet on as much as he’d never admit to it. Not that _he_ would admit finding Starscream’s casual insolence a turn-on either.

Starscream’s optics were dimmed with arousal, to the point where he couldn’t even manage to look smug having the warlord below him and worshipping his frame. He nodded weakly and did as Megatron commanded.

The Seeker’s wet valve was bared for Megatron, already swollen with arousal, and both the biolights lining the rim and his node were pulsating. Megatron didn’t point out the obvious, how turned on and begging for it he was - dragging it out would be as good as torture for the both of them, so Megatron wasted no time sinking his thick glossa into the soft mesh. Sliding from the rim to between the plush folds of the Seeker’s valve, the taste of his arousal was mesmerizing.

“Megatr- ah—!”

Starscream arched his back, only not toppling over backwards on the desk due to Megatron’s large arm supporting him by having grabbed a servoful of aft. Megatron’s left hand was still on his thigh, keeping his legs obscenely apart, giving him as much access he needed to make the Seeker lose his mind.

A hand on the desk supported Starscream’s balance and one on the back of Megatron’s helm, legs spread as wide as they could get over Megatron’s shoulders. 

Megatron kissed his valve with the same ferocity as he had his mouth earlier, brushing against sensitive nodes, with carefully calculated movements as only an ex-gladiator used to ripping out another mech’s spark with his bare hands could execute.

Starscream bit the inside of his lip, muffling another gasp as Megatron flicked his anterior node with his tongue, pressed into it and continued caressing it in a circular motion.

Megatron kept his focus to the jet’s node, being what caused the most animated reaction. He sucked it into his mouth, drawing out a string of moans and obscure curses from the jet as he squirmed in Megatron’s now harder grasp. His valve pulsed around his tongue, graciously releasing lubricants. Starscream’s head dropped back, unable to keep a composed expression or utter a coherent word as Megatron continued administering waves of pleasure through his frame with his glossa, greedily tasting his fluids.

Steady strokes of Megatron’s glossa brought Starscream closer and closer to overload, and when the warlord felt a tickle of an electric charge of nearing climax on his glossa he wedged a finger into his valve, giving enough extra friction to bring the jet to the finish line.

Starscream’s legs crossed and tightened around Megatron’s helm, essentially locking him between his thighs as he audibly overloaded with a choked sob, arching into the warlord’s lips. Megatron’s face was pushed into the Seeker’s valve by his legs, allowing him to lap up the mess he made of lubricants from the oversensitive valve.

While still panting, Starscream started to calm down, releasing Megatron from the strong grip of his thighs, his frame kept twitching with small aftershocks of intense pleasure. With Megatron’s grip loosening, he reclined onto his back onto the desk. Megatron only got up from between the Seeker’s thighs when his glossa was satisfied tasting the Seeker.

“Dry your face,” was all he could say when Megatron leant over him to meet his optics. 

Megatron didn’t, instead he leant down and kissed him, a lazy, sloppy, affectionate kiss. His large servos moving to pin the Seeker down by his wrists next to his helm, but gently rather than his usual iron grip. Starscream moaned into his mouth, again nipping lazily at Megatron’s to tease him into deepening it.

“You pleasuring me isn’t much of a punishment,” Starscream said when his breathing calmed enough to form a full sentence, face now bearing an attractively smug smirk. “You didn’t even make me beg.”

“It’s not like you to think I’m done with you, _Starscream,_ ” he purred his name into his audial, the Seeker quivering in response. 

He offered Starscream a servo, which he took with a look of scepticism, and pulled him off the desk to stand up. Not a moment passed before the Seeker was spun and bent over the desk, bright red aft out.

“Oh, so _now_ you want to feel superior again, fragging me over a desk from behind, hm?” Starscream sneered, “I don’t mind though.”

He angled his legs apart, jutting his aft upwards to give Megatron access to his still exposed valve.

“Hm,” Megatron mumbled, ignoring what was on display. His finger stroked over his aft plating, locating different panel.

“Open.”

Starscream turned his head in surprise and his cheeks practically started glowing, optics wide. He turned his face away again, in embarrassment this time, before releasing the panel with a ‘click’.

“Y…yes. As you wish, my Lord…”

“Suitable enough _punishment_ for you, Starscream?” Megatron sneered.

“I’m not exactly in a position to make demands, am I, Lord Megatron?” he replied, in a very poor attempt at giving the impression he wasn’t eager for this, as he laid there over the desk pushing out his aft, posed like a model from a discount trashy pinup calendar.

Current energon filtering and processing methods meant that ingested energon would be consumed by a bot’s frame in its entirety, no manual waste expulsion needed, leaving this port ignored and unnecessary for most Cybertronians. The _less ambitious_ Cybertronians.

Megatron circled the little port with a finger. It twitched under his touch.

“You keep it neat and pretty…”

“It’s basic hygiene not to leave any part of your frame to rust,” Starscream snapped. “Idiot.”

“Anyway”, he peeped up again, shifting his body uncomfortably, “at least use this…”

He reached a tiny bottle taken from his subspace to Megatron. Megatron recognised it as personal lubricant, the kind usually used for toys or more ‘adventurous’ play. A small, devious smile formed on his lips when he imagined Starscream might have been keeping it on him specifically for a situation like this. He dripped it over his fingers, and finally released his neglected spike, not needing much of an effort to stroke it to full hardness. 

Starscream still let out an annoyed grunt at the lack of attention on him, “I’m not lying here for you to finish by self-servicing.”

Megatron watched Starscream’s reactions carefully as he started touching his port again with his slicked-up fingers. Gently, likely barely making him feel a tickling sensation.

“Just shove it in there,” Starscream whined. “ _Do_ something.”

Before he could continue his complaining Megatron slid his index finger inside him, then another finger following.

“Aah…,” Starscream gasped at the intrusion. “Oh…” He arched his back when Megatron started moving them inside him, his fingers moving in variations between gentle caressing and a burning stretch. His ministrations were done with a with calculatingly torturous leisureliness.

It didn’t take long before Starscream got impatient again, getting used to the stretching sensation. He tried moving, trying to push himself deeper on Megatron’s fingers, but his position made it a weak effort. He kicked a heel up against him. “More. _Harder_.”

Again, Megatron’s impatience to get inside the discourteous Seeker won over his desire to tease him. After a few more hard thrusts of his fingers, and a few more needy whines from Starscream, he redacted them and positioned himself properly between the seeker’s legs. 

Despite his whining, Starscream grit his teeth and gripped the edges of the desktop in preparation for the inevitably heavy pressure of Megatron’s spike.

Megatron lined up his spike, and experimentally circled the port a few times with the tip before finally pushing it in, guided by fingers. He kept going, one ridged section by one forcing its way into the jet’s slight frame. He was so tight it was almost painful, turning Megatron’s usually low moans into loud growling.

Spike around two thirds in, Starscream’s moaning too changed into something between pain and pleasure. 

“Does it hurt?” Megatron questioned, spike slowly sliding back the other direction.

“Ah—D…doesn’t matter,” Starscream hissed through his teeth and wiggled his aft to persuade Megatron to start filling him again. “Make me forget. _Don’t you dare pull out_!”

Megatron gripped his hips harder, no mercy this time. Starscream started squirming desperately the moment Megatron sank his spike back, all the way in this time, spreading him apart and filling him thoroughly. Wings flared out, fluttering now; Starscream was too worked up by the sudden heavy pressure for them to neatly settle. Megatron grit his teeth and pushed himself as deep into him as he could get, motivated by the jet’s reactions to being filled like this by him for the first time.

He pulled his spike back, then mercilessly plunged in again, a servo settling in a hard grip on both sides of his hips to allow for controlled thrusts into the lean frame. Starscream gasped and sagged, but when the swelling of Megatron’s spike returned he bucked wildly. Starscream stiffened his heels and thrust himself up as hard as he could, uselessly gripping against the flat surface of the desktop. 

Megatron rolled his hips, forcing the Seeker’s port to accommodate him better, the pained way it stretched around his spike turning deliciously tight, allowing him to slide his spike in and out to a controlled tempo. With the way Starscream kept tightening and releasing, Megatron couldn’t tell if it was an involuntary reaction or not, but the curses now coming from his intake were now far past the point of expressing discomfort and past the point of lewd and into the downright indecent. Megatron being nothing if not thorough, was determined to answer the Seeker’s obstinate demands, and slammed Starscream’s frame forward onto his spike.

The relentless pace of Megatron’s thrusts into him made it impossible for Starscream to control his moaning, the sounds escaping his lips sending currents of arousal to Megatron’s overcharging spike only urging him on. Their frames clanged together, the room filling with sounds of metal against metal and the obscene, wet, sliding sounds of their interfacing equipment against each other as much as their moans and whines.

Megatron wished Starscream could see himself now, how well such a big spike managed to fit inside his tight port. “Good boy,” Megatron whispered through clenched teeth, his unrelenting thrusts continuing.

Megatron leant over him, chest to winged back, the larger frame enveloping him, close enough that the two of them could hear each other’s hitched breathing and whispers of half-curses, half-something else, both intoxicated by the other. Megatron was pressed as deep into the jet as he could get, the ridges of his spike sliding roughly against rarely-stimulated nodes inside him. 

He could probably make the Seeker overload like this with enough effort, but he noticed he was getting closer himself, so he decided to be generous. He slid a servo under the jet’s frame, expertly finding its way to his valve, locating his anterior node.

At first confused at what Megatron was doing, Starscream started shrieking and squirming even more as his node was stimulated between two fingers in the same rhythm as Megatron’s thick spike inside him. The combination of sensations that were rapidly increasing in intensity were making him light headed, lost in pleasure as his frame cycled air faster than he could draw it into his overheated frame.

“Megatron, I…,” was the most coherent thing he managed to moan out that wasn’t begging, before he was pulled over the edge, the ripples of his overload releasing fluids coating Megatron’s hand, wings flaring out beautifully in response to the intense current of pleasure washing over him before slowly lowering in shivering flutters. His entire frame spasmed, internals clenching Megatron even tighter in his overload, a long drawn-out near-sob punctuating it.

Megatron kept going well through his overload, fragging him hard chasing his own climax, leaving the jet an overstimulated mess under him. Megatron finally arched into him in his own overload, gripping Starscream’s hips as hard as he could, the jet moaning softly as he was filled with Megatron’s hot fluids. He could feel Starscream’s insides stimulating him, tightening around him as if the insatiable glitch was trying to pump all the fluids he could out of him. Megatron rolled his hips a few times into him, before slowly redacting his spike, Starscream arching and moaning indecently at this too, savouring the feel of the softening spike inside him. Translucently silver fluids were dripping out of his port when the thick spike withdrew, a beautifully obscene display.

Megatron, finally having closed his spike behind his panel again, couldn’t help but feel a dirty satisfaction at having marked Starscream both internally and externally. _One day, maybe, the depths of your spark will belong to me as well_ , an innermost desire tried to tell him, but he denied himself any outward expression or even self-confirmation of such a sentimental, base, wish. He let himself be greedy and possessive, but he was still too proud for _sappy_. 

At the same time, something about how the Seeker constantly tried, too often to his success despite unprincipled methods, to make sure he was at the centre of Megatron’s attention made his spark flare up again and again.

He helped Starscream sit up, making them face each other. The first thing Starscream did was to cup Megatron’s face in his servos, then sliding nimble fingers behind his helm and pulling him in close for a kiss, the heated atmosphere and sweet smell of interface still in the air. Megatron grabbed one of his servos, intertwining their fingers, as he returned the kisses. Gentle, affectionate, the kind they’d only allow between them in the moments after they’d temporarily fragged the tension out of their frames.

Megatron’s mind had been as far away as it could possibly get from Shockwave’s dreary report, and he was not exactly eager to get back to it. He would almost expect a flash of shame or regret to come but he also knew it never would. 

“What was that you said? Earlier,” Megatron mumbled as he languidly kissed into Starscream’s neck.

“Hmm?”

“About me overworking myself?”

“Oh, did I really say something like— “ Starscream caught himself and shook his head, composing his facial features.

“As your Second, I am here to ascertain you conquer the entire universe under your pedes.” He gently circled a finger over the warlord’s chest. “Do you think I would accept anything less?”

Megatron kept him held close, the purring of both of their engines causing a comfortable warm vibration between them.

“Anyway, you made a mess.”

“The cleaning drones will take care of it.” 

The cleaning drones that had been engineered by Shockwave. Not that Megatron was foolish enough to bring him up to his affectionate post-overload Seeker. He wiped his servo on the surface of the desk, leaving a mark.

“I meant of _me_!” Starsream whined, frowning and pointing Megatron towards his legs. Even with his panel closed, his thighs were streaked with proof of their coupling.

“Hm.”

Despite his complaints, Starscream let Megatron still hold him close in his arms, even stopped his complaining to nuzzle into his neck. A sated Starscream was an affectionate Starscream. Megatron knew not to waste it. He stroked his backstrut, while pressing their chests together…realising what he wanted right now was more of this closeness between their warm frames.

“I’ll let you use my private washracks.”

“What’s this? Preferential treatment? _Inviting me into your quarters_?” 

Starscream’s lips curled into a smugly satisfied smile as he looked up to meet Megatron’s optics.

“You are my Second, after all,” Megatron said, grabbing Starscream’s chin and stroking it softly with the underside of his thumb. “You take priority, sometimes.”

He would let him into his personal quarters letting him use his personal washracks. He’d even let him join him for the night in his comfortably padded berth.

It would be more comfortable in the morning than falling into recharge in their office, anyway.


End file.
